Love in the Blackest of Places
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: A series of vignettes written for a friends birthday.  All center around Bellatrix.  Some Blackcest, several other pairings.  Rated M for launguage and sexul content, as always.
1. Narcissa

Love in the Blackest of Places

Disclaimer: It is not mine.

A/N: Dedicated with great admiration to Greeneleka. This is the first in a series of vignettes surrounded Bellatrix. Each chapter is a song fic, and each is connected in some small way to the next. Enjoy!

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**_Narcissa_**

_Remember all the times that we used to play_

_You were lost and I would save you_

_I don't think those feelings will ever fade_

_You were born a part of me_

They say she was mad, but I know better than they do, whoever _they_ are. She wasn't mad, she was brilliant. She was beautiful, but something just wasn't right. She was the loveliest broken person I've ever seen. When we were children we used to pretend that she was a prince come to save me from the terrible home we grew up in. We would play pretend that we were star-crossed lovers, destined to save each other. She was always my prince and I, a princess. When I even suggested that I be the prince and she play princess to me she would throw one of her tantrums and I would give in. Some of us simply are meant to be princesses.

"You're too sweet, too light for this place." She would tell me, running her fingers through my hair. Her eyes would darken as her fingers trailed down my shoulders and she would pull my hair to one side, placing a delicate kiss on the base of my neck. My skin used to tingle every time she gave me a loving sisterly touch. I fell in love with Bella before I had any concept of what love even was. I had none for my parents, I had none for Andromeda, but what I felt when Bella twirled my hair around her long, pale fingers was the most intense love I've known in my life.

_I was never good at hiding anything_

_My thoughts break me_

_Do you understand what you mean to me?_

_You are my faith_

As we got older our exploration of one another became… less innocent. Four years my senior, Bella's body was well developed before my cycle even began. I was twelve and still waiting to 'become a lady'. We still liked to pretend that we were going to one day escape to somewhere better, somewhere it could be just us two. Until that day we decided that the fields behind Black Manor would have to do. We would walk far into the fields and find a dune to lounge in. We could simply lie in the grass, our sides touching and that was all we needed.

I stared at her body for hours in rapt fascination. "Will I look like this one day?" I asked her once. She smiled softly, I was the only one she saved that smile for and nodded. She let me run my hands down her sides and feel the way her waist curved inward. My hips were straight; my dresses didn't flair out at all. Her skirts billowed like the wind blew through them always. She let me feel the rounded hips and luxurious bosom that she assured me would one day pale in comparison to my own.

I didn't believe her. How could I ever be lovelier than she? She was the loveliest. She ran her fingers through my hair, tucking loose strands behind my ears. "You know that I love you the most, don't you Cissa? No one will ever have my heart; they won't know where to look because it lives here." She told me and placed her hand over my underdeveloped left breast. Thrills ran down my spine, I shivered from her touch. A dark look took over her features.

"What's wrong?" I asked and she shook her head. She pulled her hand from my body as if burned. She never wanted to make me impure. As if either of us ever had a choice. In a world filled with impurities, who could remain clean? How could we turn away from the only beautiful thing we knew? I pressed my lips to her cheek, remaining longer than what is deemed appropriate. I felt the shift as she leaned into me, melted onto my lips. When my hand slowly slid past her knee, up those ever-billowing skirts she abruptly pulled away, stood and pressed her lips lightly to mine before turning and walking away from me. She always looked tortured when it came to our touches.

_Won't you cure my tragedy_

_Won't you cure my tragedy_

_Don't take her smile away from me_

_She's broken and I'm far away_

_If you made the world a stage for me_

_Then I hope that you can hear me scream_

Years later I found myself married to Lucius. Bella was married to Rodolphus. To the outside world everything seemed to be well and right with the Black sisters. It was torture for us. Forced to warm the beds of men who could never compare to the one we truly loved. When Bella married she would warm his bed and when it was late and her husband had fallen asleep she found her way to my fireplace, rising from it like the darkest of angels. She'd climb atop me and beg me to finish her, do what that man could not.

"You are my only." She told me as her orgasm flooded over my fingers. "My only." She insisted. I held her for fleeting minutes; knowing that she had to return to her new home. It was not until I married Lucius that our trysts came to an end. It seemed that my older sister was willing to sully the honor of her own marriage by creeping out of her husband's bed and into mine, but my marriage was to be respected. She knew that if she were to get caught leaving Lestrange Manor that she would be punished, but she would never tell where she had gone and I would be safe. She could not bear the thought of it being my honor compromised.

I received an owl occasionally with two lonely words. "_My Only." _

Separation and doing the Dark Lord's bidding was causing her to crack. Rodolphus was no match for Bella, no one but me could handle her storms. Without me she slipped into what appeared to be madness. I knew better, she couldn't function without me any better than I was functioning without her. I was simply better at hiding it. When I became pregnant with Draco I found something to live for again. Bella was not blessed with the same gift. Rodolphus's seed was lame, she never became with child. The owl's stopped coming. Bella was alone.

_When I sit and think of the days we shared_

_And the nights you covered for me_

_Every little thing that I ever did_

_You would stand by me_

_Every time you cried it would take my wind_

_If I could be strong like you were for me_

_You are my faith_

The owls stopped but memories did not. I don't believe I ever truly made love to Lucius. His kiss was ignored, replaced by the lips and smoothness of my Bella's mouth. His hands turned into long pale fingers. As he spilled his seed into me, I coated Bella's hand with my love. After months of not hearing from my sister I reached out to her. "_Has someone found your heart?_" It read. The reply was swift.

"_Only if you have shown them where it is hidden." _She was still mine.

I released a breath that I must have been holding for ages. I had only asked her this once before. When we were in school she had another lover. I had to lie to our head of house so many nights when she came in late. I had to go out looking for her to make sure she wasn't caught. She betrayed me, she was beginning to love someone else and still I could not stop myself from wanting to protect her from everything the world would say if they found out. To put it plainly if my devotion was a boat, I would continue to paddle long after the river ran dry. If she was not mine, I was still hers.

One night she came stumbling into the common room, late again. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, her clothes disheveled. She was surprised to find me waiting on her. "I had to cover for you again, sister." I said coolly.

"Oh? What did you come up with this time?" She asked, laughing.

"Female troubles, you headed up to hospital to get a potion for them." I informed her. She narrowed her eyes at me before laughing.

"Female troubles is quite right, sister, but I wasn't up in hospital dealing with them." She winked at me.

"Do you not see what you're doing to me?" I whispered harshly. A look of confusion passed over her features. "Only Mine." I scoffed. "Has someone found your heart?" I demanded. She came to me and rested her forehead on mine. Black eyes pierced into my blues. Her hands caressed my sides, around to my back and eventually rested on my hips. She was right; I developed into quite the woman.

"Have you shown someone where I keep it hidden?" She asked slyly. Her hand slide up my thigh, under my nightgown.

"Never." I replied. Her fingers caressed me slowly and she nodded at my moan.

"Try to remember Cissa, mine, as long as here-" She grasped my left breast. "-is still where my heart is, no matter where my body lies, or with whom my body lays, you are my home." Tears fell from my eyes and she kissed them away. She loved me that night as if to remind me that I was to whom she belonged.

_Won't you cure my tragedy_

_Won't you cure my tragedy_

_Don't take her smile away from me_

_She's broken and I'm far away_

_If you made the world a stage for me_

_Then I hope that you can hear me scream_

The night I sent her that owl she came to me. Lucius and Rodolphus were out working for the Dark Lord on a mission that Bella was not asked to go on. I had just gotten Draco down to sleep when I heard the first click of her heels on the hard wood floor in front of the fireplace. Her hair was wild and the look in her eyes was savage. She crossed the room in five steps and took me in her arms. I melded into her, happy to be back where I belonged.

I took in the scent of her erratic, soft curls. She was still Bella; she was still the same as the girl who once lay in the grass with me, assuring me that I would one day be a woman. I wanted her to show me, to remind me that I was a woman. Lucius never made me feel that way. I tangled my fingers into her hair and she groaned. I needed her to still be my Bella, my first, my last, the one I wished was my only. Her hands wove their way into my dressing robes and she ran her hands along my waist. Yes, that was what I wanted, to be touched. I didn't want to pretend anymore, I wanted the real thing. So much pretending to want what Lucius thought he had to give, he had nothing for me. The only thing that man ever gave me was my son.

She lowered me to the floor and bunched my robes up into a ball, placing the garment behind my head to cradle my neck. Her mouth touched every part of me. Her fingers delved into the depths of my soul, where I needed them the most. I barely noticed the cold kiss of the wood floor at my back, my thighs, and my toes. All of her was heat, searing into me. My hips met her thrusts over and over in a frantic, rhythm of need. Somewhere along the line my own fingers found her center, and I worked her soul as she worked mine. Her erratic hair stuck to her forehead and mine billowed out behind me as we both shuddered our orgasms into one another's mouths. We lay there for more fleeting minutes, slick with sweat and other more intimate fluids.

"No matter where or with whom my body lies." She said. I kissed her, guiding her hand to my breast.

"You'll always have a home here." I supplied.

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	2. Minerva

Love in the Blackest of Places

Disclaimer: It is not mine.

A/N: Dedicated with great admiration to Greeneleka. This is the second in a series of vignettes surrounded Bellatrix. Each chapter is a song fic, and each is connected in some small way to the next. Song is Whatever you Became by Cold. Enjoy!

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**_Minerva_**

_Whatever you became, blame it on my fame_

_I'm always away from you, sold my life for a song_

_Whatever you killed, the blood got on my face_

_They say it took over you and your mind's nearly gone_

Staring at the newspaper clipping in today's prophet I was shocked at the thrill that ran down my spine. Staring back at me was Bellatrix Black… no, Lestrange. The sneer turned to a scream in the picture. It was impossible not to feel a certain amount of guilt over the current situation the once promising, young woman was now in. I wish I could go back and save the girl, now pulled so deeply into dark magic, into false beliefs of superiority and destiny. No matter which way the war went, Bellatrix was sure to be a casualty. I couldn't help feeling as though I was to blame in part.

She was my best student, my favored pupil, my teacher's pet. She never gave a damn about what people said. On more than one occasion I had seen her take a ribbing over her enthusiasm in my class. She handled each student who sought to challenge her pride with a skill and grace beyond her years. There would always be rumors, but she didn't allow them to run rampant. Everything was a weapon in her arsenal. Eyes, hands, body, mind, wand, magic, all were simply tools with which to neutralize her enemies. I remember an incident between her and the Dolohov boy. "Why don't you just switch houses and get it over with? You're clearly a Gryffindor brat." He had taunted. Bella was terrifying and brilliant.

I watched her walk over to the boy, her hips swaying dangerously, her full lips set in a constant pout. Her eyes flashed in mirth, having found her retort the moment the boy began talking. She pressed her chest firmly against his, pulling his ear down her lips, Dolohov was clearly disarmed by her charms and who wouldn't be? "But if I moved to Gryffindor tower, it would mean leaving your sister's bed cold at night." She whispered wickedly into his ear. His eyes widened and before he could say anything else she was swaying away. Dolohov later ended up in the hospital wing after confronting his very pissed off sister.

Looking at the picture now I had to excuse myself from the table. She was everything, she could have been anything. I could have helped her when she asked for it. I could have done more instead of worrying about myself, my reputation.

_And I can't change my ways_

_I'm sorry it's my fault_

_I wasn't there to see _

_Whatever you became_

_Whatever you became_

The girl was the most infuriating, intelligent, hard-headed person I've ever known. Only seventeen years of age. Her trace was just removed, she was just now legal. She was at my door. It was going on for a long time. Her eyes seemed to pierce directly through me, into more intimate places where she simply didn't belong. She was in my dreams, my mind and if I were being honest with myself, she was in my heart. It was so rare to find a young witch who was so anxious to soak up everything that was given to her. I'd never had a student like her before in my life. True, her sisters were almost equally as talented, but neither of them possessed that hunger.

The desire for knowledge, for mastery of all she pursued, that was what made me start wondering about how eager a student she might be in the bedroom. I wondered if she would try to master me as she had mastered all of the other things I taught her. She started to stare at me with intent eyes, with desire when she was fifteen. Too young, not legal, my student, so many reasons. Now she was of age, though still my student. Now she was at my door, begging me with her eyes to teach her more, uncover my personal secrets. I moved aside to grant her entrance into my quarters.

I poured her a glass of wine as a birthday gift. She always stared at my bottles and I'd promised her a glass from my finest bottle when she came of age. She smiled seductively and told me that she was there to collect. Heat was collecting in my body. Places that hadn't been warm in many years began igniting. After too many glasses of wine she was feeling bold, I was feeling weak. When her hand rested on my hip I knew there was no more resistance in me. This young, beautiful, wild witch had me. She had all of me that night.

Red, wine-stained lips crashed into mine ferociously, possessively. She would master me that night and more than once. Robes cascaded to the floors, the cold note in the air ignored. I bared myself for a girl half my age. Her eyes roved over my body, taking in every inch of me. Was this wrong? Was this sin? Why did things that I shouldn't allow feel so very _right? _I watched as curls as black as her name fell into her face when she dipped her head down to take my breasts with her mouth. I allowed myself to tangle my hands in the hair I had wanted to touch for two years. Yes, this was most certainly wrong, but I wanted it and she would not be denied any longer.

Her hair tickled my skin as she slowly kissed her way down my trembling torso. I was by no means inexperienced, but she was forbidden, she was the apple and I was Eve. I needed to take a bite. Her lips met with my womanhood, wrenching gasps and moans from me. Her sweet tongue made slow, thorough love to me before she delved into me. She was a perfect mix of gentle and demanding. Though I had given myself into this, I knew that she would have no qualms simply taking what she wanted.

I opened for her as I'd never opened before. She curled two fingers into me, exploring my own dark places. She groaned in desire at my urging her for another finger, for more, for everything. She was happy to oblige; curling another into me. Lips and teeth on my nipples, marks along my collar bone. She was everything that night. There was nothing in the world apart from her and me and my bed. When I came it was her name that tumbled from my lips. For the first time I called her Bellatrix. That night she wasn't Miss Black, she was Bella. She was my Belle.

_Whatever you became, blame it on blind faith_

_I can't turn away from you, what's my life if you're gone?_

_Whatever you feel, take it on my stage_

_I sing to the world for you and I'm always alone_

Of course the morning came, in that cruel way it has of doing. Regrets sat heavy upon my chest. She slept with an arm draped over my stomach. Even in slumber she was demanding, possessive of my body. I knew that I made a mistake. I was Minerva McGonagall; I simply could not have an on-going affair with a student, no matter her age, no matter her status as an 'adult.' If I were being honest I would have allowed myself to realize that there was never going to be anyone who could make me feel the way she did, because I loved this dark young woman. I loved her as I never loved before, or again. She captivated me like no other.

"This cannot happen again." I told her in my most stern tone. She laughed and licked her lips.

"Do you think that you have the will to stop? I can imagine that if I had never done this in the first place you could have gone on ignoring your desires, but having had a taste now, how will you deny yourself? It would be cruel to both of us." She said. She was so very right and that was why I knew what I had to do. I spent my morning making love to her. I knew that she had taken her vows to Voldemort. I knew that I was the only things that could stop her from falling deeper into the madness that had already begun to surface. Too much inbreeding, too much drilling of pureblood mania had turned possibilities for this woman to be good, sour. There was no question which side she would be on in the upcoming events.

She demanded more of me than I was willing to give. She demanded a future, one of unforeseeable length, one that I didn't have to offer her. I was not Minerva, lover of Bellatrix; I was Professor McGonagall, teacher of students. I let her walk away thinking I would be there when she got back, but I took an impromptu sabbatical, knowing that she would have finished her year by the time I was due back. The letters she sent were filled with rage. Abandonment was not her color. The very last one I ever received from her was the most chilling.

_Fool, pray you do not meet me on the battlefield._

_Bellatrix Lestrange_

My stomach dropped at the message and the signature. She married the boy after all. He had been sharpening her rage into a menacing point and now she was his wife. I will never know which mistake was the biggest, letting her have me at all, or not letting her keep me. We could have been together; I was too concerned with my name, my image, the person I was supposed to be. I didn't give a thought to the woman I wanted to be. I wasn't there to see the woman she was becoming, to try and stop it. The madness in the photo is most certainly partly my fault. There is no denying it.

_And I can't change my ways_

_I'm sorry it's my fault, I wasn't there to see_

_Whatever you became; whatever you became_

_I thought you'd go away; you've taken this from me_

_Until I see your face and I'm sorry I went away_

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	3. Andromeda

Love in the Blackest of Places

Disclaimer: It is not mine.

A/N: Dedicated with great admiration to Greeneleka. This is the third in a series of vignettes surrounding Bellatrix. Each chapter is a song fic, and each is connected in some small way to the next. Song is A Different Kind of Pain by Cold. Enjoy!

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**_Andromeda _**

_Before I let you go_

_Give me just one more night _

_To show you just how I feel_

_I lost all my control_

_If it takes my whole damn life_

_I'll make this up to you_

Before Cissa came along and stole Bella's heart it was me whose bed she snuck into late at night. Looking at the woman she became no one would ever guess that she was ever afraid of sleeping alone. In the summer she came and made my sheets into tents above our heads, hugging me close to her all night. She would disappear some time before the sun came up, before I woke every morning. Mother and father would not have been pleased to find her seeking solace in anything, let alone her own sister's arms. In the winter she would wrap herself around me and I would wrap my quilt around the two of us. Having her close like that always gave me butterflies in my stomach.

When we got older she frequented my chambers less and less. When Cissa began at Hogwarts my four poster bed was mine alone, Cissa welcomed our eldest sister into her bed every night. Bella pulled away from me when I began befriending people who weren't up to snuff with her high standards. There was a certain type of night though, when it stormed and the thunder reverberated through the halls of the castle that she found her way back into my bed. I waited for the thunder like a long lost lover. It was always the same. Her eyes would be wide, her hair still fell down her back in graceful rings at the time, but she always looked disheveled when she found her way back to me. She needed me in the storms. She needed my familiar embrace.

To anyone it looked completely innocent, but what went on behind the curtains in my bed was the sweetest of taboos. Her hand would creep up my sleeping shirt and cup my breasts. Silence charms in place I allowed myself to hiss in pleasure for her. Despite my friends in Ravenclaw house, I was a Slytherin through and through. My sounds served to spurn my young lover, my sister on. My nipples were rolled between expert fingers. Jagged, bitten nails ran down my sides, resting on my hips. A curious tongue probed into my folds. A delicious thrill ran through my body whenever my sister sought out the comfort of my bed. We always had the storms, the thunder. That was what Bella was to me, a storm, thunder that I could feel booming through my soul.

_Kind of like the waves_

_That roll their whole life _

_Towards somewhere_

_Crashing it on the shore_

_Exploded by the wind_

_That carries the clouds to hide me_

_Wish on a fallen star_

Bella was getting married. She was marrying that horrid Lestrange boy. He was exactly the sort of man I always knew father would arrange for her. He came from a good family, he had money, he was handsome and he was a follower of the Dark Lord. He was just fine for Bella. The two of them even had some semblance of a relationship. She both hated and admired him. He was almost as cruel and calculating as Bella herself. It was a good match. Cissy didn't care. Cissy knew that she was Bella's heart, her everything. No matter where Bella went, Cissy was with her in her heart. Bella and I were a different animal altogether. We grew apart as she delved deeper into dark magic.

The night before her wedding I was certain that she would be in Cissy's room. It had been ages since Bella had warmed my bed. The winter was long and for the most part absent of the storms that always sent my beautiful sister running to me. It was early summer and we were all at the lunch table when I saw them. The storm clouds rolled in, blocking out the blue skies that signaled to me that it was Cissa's time with our sister. A sour look came over my dear baby sister's face. She eyed our sister as Bellatrix's eyes bore into me. It was fitting, I was her first lover, and I should be the last arms that she found her comfort in before she left to be with her husband. I spend much of the previous day hoping against hope that I would get to have my sister's attention, her love one last time before she belonged to Rodolphus. Hoping had worked.

_A different kind of pain_

_Is someone there to hold you?_

_Is someone there to take you away from me?_

_A different kind of pain_

_Is someone there to hold you?_

_Is someone there to take you away from me?_

That night was furious. The walls of our home shook with the force of the storm. My walls shook with the force of my sister. It started out innocently. She crawled under my sheets and made them into a tent, just like we always had in summer. I stared into her dark eyes. I knew what I saw written there. _I'm going away and I need you. _I leaned on one elbow and pressed my lips to her cheek. A chaste kiss, a welcome home to my lover who had been gone for so long. We didn't understand one another anymore, but we understood this.

I moved my lips to her pulse point the way I knew she liked. She crooned for me for the millionth time in my life. She crooned for me for one of the last times. Yes, Cissy would still warrant Bella's affections, Bella would slip out of her husband's bed for my younger sisters, but this would be our last night. I could see in her eyes that it was so. She let me turn her onto her back and I pressed my thigh between hers. "Oh Dromeda. If you knew how I've missed you…" She whispered into my ear. She would never be mine again. I pressed my lips to hers, claiming her for the last time. I kissed her like I've never kissed anyone. Not even Ted, who I had begun dating secretly during the past school year.

I could feel Bella's wetness on my thigh. I palmed her breasts and kneaded them one after another. Her nipples stood erect for me, as they always had. I went slowly; I savored my last time with her. This one night was going to have to sate me of my dark desires for my sister for the rest of my life. I brought her to two shuddering orgasms. My name graced her lips like silk. She stayed with me until the early morning hours, that night I never fell asleep. I didn't want to lose a moment of our ending. I though back to how it was when we were children and silently envied my past self. It never occurred to me that Bella would not always be mine. But the day had come and she had to go.

_I tried to let you go_

_I wish I could turn back time _

_And show you just how I feel_

_I needed you to know_

_If it takes my whole damn life_

_I'll make this up to you_

The next time Bellatrix stormed into my chamber was when I announced my engagement to Ted. I was promptly kicked out of Black Manor. Ted and I were living with his folks; they had graciously taken me in. They gave me a room to stay in, since they were old fashioned and did want Ted and I sleeping in the same bed before we were married. Somehow Bella found me. Somehow she made her way into my bed.

"How could you do this Dromeda? How could you fall in love with a mudblood?" She hissed into my ear, holding my arms down by my sides. I bucked and tried to get her off of me, but she was so strong. Her eyes looked a bit sunken in, as though she hadn't slept in weeks. Her arm bore the mark of the Dark Lord.

"How could _you _follow a man who means to kill off an entire race of people? It's madness Bella, people do not choose what their blood status is and it doesn't make a person who they are." She bit my lower lip, drawing blood.

"We mustn't criticize our big sister, Andromeda." I shivered at hearing her call me by my full name. She never did that unless she was incredibly angry with me. I bucked even harder, desperate to be free of this Death Eater who was once my sister. Her eyes gleamed maniacally at me. "If you aren't going to play nice Dromeda, then I won't either." She said and I felt her hand begin to crawl up my thigh.

"Don't." I said. I had hoped for my voice to come out hard and strong, but it was a whimper. Her hand trailed higher as Bella licked her lips and pressed them firmly into mine. She forced her tongue into my mouth and I bit it. She hauled off and slapped me before pushing into me, hard.

"You're mouth says don't, but look at you, you're slick and ready for me. What makes you think you could deny me? Maybe a proper fucking from a pureblood is what you need to see why it isn't okay to consort with those below your station in life." I turned my face away from her. I couldn't help the moans and gasps that she elicited from me. She knew me better than anyone and when I came for her it was glorious and awful.

When she got up and my hands were finally free I immediately pulled my wand from below my pillow. I held my wand to her throat. "If you ever come here again, you won't be leaving in one piece. You'll envy splinched people after what I do to you Bella. So help me, if anything ever happens to Ted or his family I will come for you, there will be nowhere for you to hide. My blood knows where you are. Just stay away." Her eyes widened at me.

"He will never give you what I can." She said.

"You have nothing to give me. You haven't been mine for years. I gave up on that pipe dream long ago. Leave." I said. It seemed that she realized my answer was final. She apparated without another word.

_Kind of like the waves_

_That roll their whole life _

_Towards somewhere_

_Crashing it on the shore_

_Exploded by the wind_

_That carries the clouds to hide my_

_Wish on a fallen star_

In the end it was not Rodolphus that took my sister from me. It was the Dark Lord. It was his influence, his charisma and his ideals that took my sister from me. I loved someone she didn't even consider human. She was wrong. Ted and I created a life, a daughter, a family. Bella had nothing of what I had. She got Azkaban when I got a house. She got Dementors when I got a daughter. She was wrong and she was dark. My own flesh and blood disowned me, my own first lover, my sister, turned her back on me. But I was with the light and I got a new family.

_A different kind of pain_

_Is someone there to hold you?_

_Is someone there to take you away from me?_

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	4. Rita

Love in the Blackest of Places

Disclaimer: It is not mine.

A/N: Dedicated with great admiration to Greeneleka. This is the third in a series of vignettes surrounding Bellatrix. Each chapter is a song fic, and each is connected in some small way to the next. Song is Mouth by Bush. Enjoy!

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**_Rita Skeeter _**

_You gave me this, made me give  
Your silver grin, still sticking it in  
You have soul machine, soul machine_

I have no problem admitting the fact that I liked to snoop. I have no problem admitting that much of my information is gathered in less than honest ways. I have no problem admitting that I've slept my way to where I am now. The Daily Prophet, a legitimate newspaper. I am one of the most popular writers for the publication and why wouldn't I be? I do, after all, have the juiciest stories from the most unlikely places. As a beetle I am able to find out all sorts of juicy gossip and I am able to either extort things that I want to keep quiet about what I know, or I'm able to write slanderous drabble that witches just eat up. I make my living on the misery of others and I love every minute of it.

When I was in Hogwarts I used to pass out pamphlets on what I knew. People waited for my reports on the goings on of their classmates. I used to simply print everything that I found out. It wasn't until I found out something about Bellatrix Black that I realized I could use information to procure certain… objects or acts that I desired. I wanted to be more, be better, and grow beyond the small reports. Bellatrix was the first one to show me how to do that.

She was in my year at Hogwarts, a fellow Slytherin, but house loyalty meant little to me. By fifth year I was already an accomplished Animagus. One night I was spying on Bellatrix Black, the most mysterious of all the people I encountered in school. I'd wondered for years where she ran off to at night. Now I had the chance to find out. I followed her out one night and saw that she was staying in the Slytherin dungeons, just going to the fourth year's rooms. _Oh, she's just going to visit her boring sister_. I remember thinking, but I stuck around anyway. It was raining hard and the thunder was clapping. I didn't feel like being the only one awake in my room. Thunder bothered me.

_The longest kiss, peeling furniture days  
Drift madly to you, pollute my heart drain  
You have broken at me, broken me_

What I saw that night was scandal. Merlin, they were _sisters! _This was the juiciest gossip I'd ever uncovered. I watched in horrified fascination as the two Black sisters made furious love to one another. I didn't even know they swung that way. Bellatrix always seemed to be stringing some boy along and Andromeda was just so feminine and soft, I would never have guessed that she had desires for other girls. It hit me like a ton of bricks. No other girls, just her sister. Oh, how disturbing and intriguing. I was never one for following rules and the taboo that was broken in front of my eyes that night was thrilling.

I watched Bellatrix crawl into Andromeda's bed. I watched her pull the blankets up around them and while I didn't see exactly what was going on I could _hear it! _She made Andromeda make sounds I never imagined the little bookwormish girl ever making. I always imagined that if the girl were to get fucked the only way to know she even came would be if she dropped her book. Merlin, either she was just a screamer or what Bella did to her was better than anything any of the boys in our school knew how to do. Scandal indeed!

When they curled up together afterward I crept away, back to my bed, boredom cured without a doubt.

_All your mental armor drags me down  
Nothing hurts like your mouth, mouth, mouth_

I got as far as the common room before Bellatrix caught my up by the throat. Her teeth bared at me. "You snooping bitch, you'd best keep your big mouth shut." She hissed into my ear and bit down onto my earlobe in a not altogether unpleasant way. I remembered Andromeda's noises. I felt that I was wet. She squeezed so hard I was sure that I would suffocate. Father always said that curiosity killed the cat. But I wasn't a fucking cat, I was a beetle. I hadn't told anyone my secret yet. Now she would know. I transformed into my animal self and escaped her.

She looked around, shocked by what I'd done. When I got across the room, safe enough away from her to speak without my throat caught up in her vice grip I transformed back into myself. She cocked her head to the side at me. "You're an illegal Animagus?" She inquired. I nodded.

"Now we both hold a secret of the other's. I won't open my big mouth if you don't report me to the authorities." I told her. She looked impressed. She looked like she was considering my offer. She looked like… she was going to accept.

"There's just one thing I want…" Her eyes darkened at that statement.

"What is it Rita?" She asked, sounding bored. " Don't forget I could just as easily dispose of you entirely. Though this is the… cleaner option." She said. I rolled my eyes at her and reached down to the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head and raised an eyebrow at her, smiling.

Your loaded smiles, pretty just desserts  
Wish it all for you, so much, it never hurts  
You have soul machine, stone at me

Bellatrix gave me a quick appraisal before cocking her head to the side. "Well you're not my normal type-"

"You mean I'm not a direct blood relation to you?" I cut her off, earning a scathing look from the dark young woman.

"_Meaning _you are a bit fucking fat for my tastes." She spat. I raised my hand to slap her but she grabbed my wrist before the swing even broke. "But I do like what I see. Not bad at all." She finished. With that she pressed her lips to mine in an unforgiving, bruising kiss. I could taste her sister on her tongue and it only served to push me further into desire for her. I thought for a moment about how fucked up my psyche must be. Sure, Bella was the one fucking her sister, but I was the one who was getting off on the idea, on the images, on the taste of her sister on her lips. What did that make me? How could I be so turned on by something so utterly wrong?

Her hand pulling at my blonde locks pulled me from my consideration. "Pay close attention now Ri-ta. I won't be reviewing before your exam." I shivered at the way she said my name.

"What exam?" I asked, confused.

"Do you think you're going to be the only one who benefits from this arrangement? You're going to need to give as good as you get and darling you'll be getting very good." She said. My eyes widened. I had never made love to a woman before. I had no concept of what to do to another woman. I told her so. She ran a fingernail down my face. "Which is why you need to pay attention dear. I'm not a woman to be reckoned with when it comes to my libido. We're going to find out if you can do more with that pretty little mouth of yours than just talk shit." She said. I nodded as my lips smeared across my face in a smirk to rival her own.

_All your mental armor drags me down  
We can't breathe when you come around  
All your mental armor drags me down  
Nothing hurts like your mouth, mouth, mouth  
Your mouth, mouth, mouth_

_Your mouth, mouth, mouth_

I watched as her lips drew closer, closer to mine. She stopped just shy of kissing me. Was I going to do this? Was I going to kiss the most erratic, crazy, feared… beautiful girl in my grade, in the entire school? Was I going to go through with this? Take it further than it had gone already? Sod it all, I did it. I let out one final breath that she breathed in and I pressed my lips to her soft, full mouth. It was soft for a moment or two, but the kiss quickly turned hard. Her tongue snaked between my lips, past my teeth and massaged my own. I sighed as she sucked softly on my tongue.

_We've been missing long before_

_Never found our way home_

_We've been missing long before_

_Where we'll find our way_

She ran her fingers around to my back. Her fingers deftly unhooked my bra. My chest exposed to the cold air, my nipple perked up. She laughed and for once there was no cruelty behind it. It was a genuine laugh. "You're not difficult to turn on then, are you Skeeter? I thought you'd take a bit more coaxing than just the breeze." I snorted. Who knew this girl could actually be funny? Pleasant even. She bent her neck and took one of my nipples between her teeth. I felt her hands snake into my skirt. When she first touched my clit I practically jumped out of my skin. She laughed again and tweaked me in the same way. The pad of her finger was nothing like the rough and calloused fingers of the boys I'd been with.

She slid into me and I groaned for her. She bit my lip. "Are you trying to become the subject of gossip?" She asked. I shook my head in the negative. "Then quiet down for the love of god!" With that said she began a slow, measured thrust into me. So different from the boys I'd been with. She _knew _what she was doing. She didn't make me feel like a hole in the bed, there for her pleasure only. She coaxed sounds from me that I never heard myself make before. She kissed me just as my orgasm made my walls grasp her hand. I moaned my pleasure into her mouth and she took it.

We made love for the rest of the night. We made love on several occasions that year. I caught her with her sisters more than once. It always sent a delicious, guilty thrill through me. I always needed her after that. At the end of the day she taught me when it was best to shut my mouth.

All your mental armor drags me down  
We can't breathe when you come around  
All your mental armor drags me down  
Nothing hurts like your mouth, mouth, mouth  
Your mouth, mouth, mouth  
Your mouth, mouth, mouth

* * *

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	5. Rodolphus

Love in the Blackest of Places

Disclaimer: It is not mine.

A/N: Dedicated with great admiration to Greeneleka. This is the third in a series of vignettes surrounding Bellatrix. Each chapter is a song fic, and each is connected in some small way to the next. Song is Rev 22:20 by Puscifer. Enjoy!

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**_Rodolphus_**

_Don't be aroused by my confession_

_Unless you don't give a good Goddamn about redemption_

_I know Christ is coming_

_Well, so am I_

_You would too if the sexy devil caught your eye_

I knew she fancied women more than the fancied men. I knew it from the moment I saw her eyeing Rita Skeeter in the common room. They looked at each other differently than the other girls looked at on another, like they had a secret. I confronted Bellatrix about it one day and she didn't even have the good grace to lie. That's the way I saw it at the time, but I came to realize that she had a great deal of respect for me due to my service to the Dark Lord. Later when I asked why she hadn't lied she said that it was better to just be honest and work it out with me.

"I've fucked her. I've fucked her a great many ways Rod." She said and pressed her body against me. "But you'll be the first man." She reached down and grasped me. "You'll be the only man." She said and pressed her lips to mine. I stiffened in her hand, such a small, sweet hand. She stroked me, smirking in that way she had. "Now Rod, you'll be the first and only man but I can't promise that I won't be warming my bed with other women. I can promise that I'll allow you to watch and join if my lady friends are so inclined to welcome you."

I laughed. "You won't be my first or last woman Bellatrix. I suppose it's only fair. But you'll need to be more discreet in the future Bellatrix. I'll not have it known that my wife is a cheater and a lesbian. We have to maintain a decent cover." I told her, running my fingers through her hair. "But I _will _have you. I will have you for my own." I ran my hands down her sides, her body fit easily against me. She might never love me that way she loved her… trysts, but she would bend to my will. I told her so. She nodded, placing one hand on my chest.

She smiled. "Yes, Rod. We may not have chosen this arrangement, but there is no reason it can't be an amicable one." She said as she sank to her knees. She may have had power over her women through domination, but her power over me came in her submission. She took me with her mouth that night. She was amazing. She took me in my entirety. She stroked me with her tongue and faster than I care to admit she had me coming. She stared up at me with her dark, round eyes and I was hers.

_She'll suck you dry_

_But still you'll cry to be back in her bosom_

_To do it again_

_She'll make you weep and moan and cry_

_To be back in her bosom_

_To do it again_

She was magnificent on our wedding night. She may never have been with a man before me, but she knew what she was doing. She knew how to please a man. Perhaps it wasn't even through any effort of her own, just a natural instinct, she just knew what to do with her body. Her kisses were like wildfire. Her hands were insatiable. She seemed to decide that if she was going to have to marry a man she was at least going to enjoy herself.

Her nails bit into my back as I positioned myself at her entrance. She had insisted that we didn't do this until our wedding night. "Let me stick to at least one tradition." She insisted. I let her. She spent her last few unmarried months making love to any woman who would have her. I watched her last hurrah. I joined in on some nights. We had spent plenty of evenings making love together, just not to one another. She would slam her hand into whomever we were playing with that night, bring the girl to one shuddering orgasm after another and when she was through she would order them to suck me off.

Perhaps we were rather non-traditional but I let her have that one thing. As I readied myself to finally make love to Bellatrix she stared up at me with not love, but respect in her eyes. It wasn't hard to tell that she was never going to love me. She grabbed my hips and pulled me into her. Nothing with this woman would ever be on my terms. She slammed her hips up toward mine. I may have been inside her but she was in control. She set out pace. She took what she wanted. It wasn't long before she was coming. She took it from me, her pleasure.

She turned us over with a force that I never expected from such a small woman. She rode me furiously. Her head thrown back she ignored me completely. I don't know who it was that she imagined that night but the way her hips bucked on my hips, bringing herself and me to a cataclysmic ending. Spent, she climbed off of me and ran a quick hand through my hair. "Not bad at all." She said and walked to the bathroom to clean up without another word.

_Pray, til I go blind_

_Pray, cause nobody ever survives_

_Praying to stay in your arms _

_Just until I can die a little longer_

_Saviors and saints_

_Devils and heathens alike_

_She'll eat you alive_

That was how much of our sex went. She used my body to the best of her ability. She loved to watch other women suck me off. She liked to fuck them from behind while grabbing their hair and pressing their heads down on my cock. She liked watching me come. She was incredible. We became friends more than anything. I developed a sort of love for her. We never fell in love with one another, but her passions, her prowess were features that I found in myself. We were kindred if nothing else.

We enjoyed the same type of women. We enjoyed fucking them together. We enjoyed killing together; we shared our devotion to the Dark Lord. I can't be certain why, but I loved the days that she wanted my cock the best. It was always fun to go out and find a nice slut for us to have a good time with, but the nights that she grabbed my shaft and demanded that I fuck her, now, hard, fast. Those were the best nights.

She was the best lover I ever had.

_Jesus is risen; it's no surprise_

_Even he would martyr his mama_

_To ride to hell between those thighs_

_Who wouldn't?_

_The pressure is building at the base of my spine_

_If I have to sin to see her again_

_Then I'm gonna lie and lie and lie_

I could never be sure where she disappeared to on nights that I was out working for the Dark Lord, but I knew there was someone else she loved. She always came back with a content and peaceful look in her eyes. A peaceful look that I could never cause her to get. I never fooled myself into thinking that it was me who brought her to orgasm, it was her who brought herself to orgasm, and she just used my cock to do so.

I wonder if I should feel badly sometimes about the fact that my own wife gets no satisfaction from being with me. I wonder if I should feel less a man for the fact that she practically rapes me when we make love. After a while I stop wondering and just go with it. Things could have been much worse. I could be without her. No matter what she wants, at the end of the day I want her. She drives me crazy.

_She'll make you cry_

_I'll sell my soul _

_To be back in her bosom_

_Gladly now, please suck me dry_

_And still you'll cry to be back in her bosom_

_To do it again_

* * *

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	6. Hermione

Love in the Blackest of Places

Disclaimer: It is not mine.

A/N: Dedicated with great admiration to Greeneleka. This is the sixth in a series of vignettes surrounding Bellatrix. Enjoy!

* * *

Hermione

My spine aches. What a way to begin my tale... yet still. My spine aches upon the hard, unyielding stone floor. There is, of course, more to this tale... but that is the first thing that springs to mind, the All-Consuming thought. The most buoyant; floating to my surface the most easily... my spine... it aches upon the hard, unyielding stone floor.

No bed to speak of, I've only stones. Forty seven large, roughly cut stones. The curvature of my body makes every single position a new kind of pain. No more soft, cushioned tissue left on my bones, only gaunt, graying skin. A prisoner. A prisoner in these walls, a prisoner in my mind, a prisoner in these bones. No name. Even I stopped caring about who I was once. And she... she never cared. Call me Stockholm if I must be called anything. I personify the syndrome.

She took me... merlin... two years ago? Perhaps... perhaps it feels that long and isn't, perhaps I'm being optimistic and its been far longer... perhaps. The only certainty is that I've been here too long, no matter when she took me... and not nearly long enough.

What time is it? Is it time for a visit? How often they come... I cannot judge. My perception of minutes, seconds, hours has gone. There is no time in dungeons. Time is a man made idea for people who have things to do. She has time.

I am a thing to do.

A filthy hand dances across flesh, working its way down to the only moist place left. The junction between my thighs seems to be where all of my (lacking) hydration drips to. I sink into myself. No name. Nothing but this.

The door swings open. I go blind as the light invades my comfortable sea of darkness. It burns and I close my eyes against it, hard; shielding them with the same hand I had between my legs. I smell myself. I smell like dirt. I smell like mud.

"Now, now. We know we musn't play with things that don't belong to us muddy." A cackle. My mad captor, my God, come to punish me again, reward me again. And again. I open my eyes a fraction, black boots, black hair, black eyes. Her pale skin glows a brighter hue than my grey.

"Open your eyes whore." She demands. Fuck, why? I force myself to comply. Tears well in my dry eyes as I capitulate. This is not the good hurt, this is not what I like. "There's my good muddy. Look at yourself whore." I let my eyes roll down to gaze at my body.

I gasp at the sight. Her mad cackle dances in my ears. Scars litter my body, I look like a piece of bone, overhandled by a scrimshaw artist. So many lines. Her name spelled out upon grey canvas, again and again. Random collections of circles, lines, crossing, zigging, zagging.

"What do you think muddy?" She asks in that sticky, overly sweet tone. I'm horrified.

"Its beautiful, Mistress." I coax false sincerity from my dry vocal chords, the vibrations in my chest mock me. Liar, they call me. Liar, I am. Stockholm, I am. Canvas, I am.

"Much improved wouldn't you say?" She demands.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." I say, a tear falls onto my lip.

"Why you're overcome with gratitude, whore!" She exclaims gleefully. She relishes my submissive stance, recalling my rebellious days, when I had a name that she didn't care about.

Teeth caress my filthy skin. Canines sink home. Pink anemic roses bloom across my clavicle. She laps up the dirty of me and the dirty of my blood. I moan for her. I can't help myself. I am Stockholm; watch me bend backward until my back breaks for dear Mistress. Mistress who has made me pretty, painted her name across my canvas with pointed brush.

"My muddy whore. You like it don't you? Tell me how you like it." She smirks, knowing everything I am about to tell her is true.

"Mistress, I love it... I need it. Please?" Mad laughter.

Black, salacious eyes bore into my soul. Mistress is all that I am. I live, for Mistress allows me life. I eat when Mistress feeds me. I come when Mistress fucks me. I fuck when Mistress lowers herself and slides her pussy over my face. I will die when Mistress tells me too. I am Stockholm.

"Good muddy." Wicked nails bite into grey flesh, pink roses. Broken moans from a dry throat. No, that won't do. I already know it. I brace for the pain, awaiting it like a lover. Mistress does not disappoint, Mistress never disappoints. The loud, resounding crack of her hand across my face is the most jarring part. The way my lip splits open is not new, the stinging in my face is not unwelcome. She has what she wants. I scream for her. Mistress always get what she wants.

My dull hair leads me, guided by Mistress' pulling hand; over to a wall. Which wall? I wonder. It matters not, which wall, I assure myself. Delicious fire as the stone wall scrapes and reopens yesterday's love. Mistress spreads and presses, in straddle, forcing me into her. A dry tongue laps slick, clean skin. I drink her in like water, devour her like my last supper. Is it supper time? No, there is no time, only Mistress.

My head hits the stone wall again and again. I imagine bed, a headboard, but a headboard doesn't crack the skull like a melon. Thin blood, sticky in my dirty hair. What does it matter? Things like that once worried me, back when I had a name... Now I know better. Mistress will heal me, or bless me with the gift of death.

Thrusts become frantic. I pick up the pace, my jaw the only strong place left on my abused body. "Oh, yes whore. Yes, muddy. You were made for this." I was. She made me for this. I was nothing before she brought me here.

She floods my mouth with her sweetness. I lap up every drop, I let her coat my mouth and throat. My head swims with the loss of blood and the thick, heady taste of Mistress. She heals my head. No death today, perhaps tomorrow.

Mirth glints in her eyes. I've done well. A shine in her hand. Have I any unmarred skin left for her to claim? I am nought but hers. I arch for her, for her knife. The happy blade slides across my lip, collecting my pinkness. The dull blade slides a snail trail down the middle of me, a path of sorts. My eyes follow. The glint; I once worried at that glint, but not now, not since I've become Stockholm.

Mistress cuts into my inner thighs. Crossing old lines, making them new. Screams tear, unchecked from my hoarse throat. she laughs. "My muddy whore, you're ready for me." Not a question, a decision. Mistress says I am ready and so I must be. I open for her. Spreading my legs wide, arching for her, aching for the contact. Mistress likes me desperate and so I am such. So eager to please her.

I shiver when I feel the handle of her knife play at my entrance. In this game no one wins, but everyone gets to play, everyone gets to bleed. I can see her spilt rubies trickling between the fingers of her fist, closed around the blade. When we are done, she will be painted up to her elbow. She slides the handle into me slowly and pulls out, running it up my sex to flick at my swollen clit. She plays this way for a bit, before plunging the friendly half of her knife into my sex. I buck into it, loving the fullness.

"That's a good muddy girl. Taking what I give you, just like that." Mistress approves and I ride her as she fucks me. She moans in the dance of this pleasure/pain. I cry out my devotion, bleed out my pink for her, giving her all that I have, all that I am. Stockholm, I am. I live to please my Mistress.

My walls begin to clench. "Don't you dare come muddy. Not until I say so." I focus on loosening my walls. The knife is small and I am able to stave off the impending orgasm. Mistress has given a direction and I must follow. She pulls her knife out and plunges three fingers into me. More screams. I cannot loosen enough to stop from clenching her hungry hand.

"Not quite yet, whore. You're doing so well." Mistress' praise brings my being to a higher state. I fight harder against impending blackness.

"Mistress?" I ask tentatively. Her eyes flash.

"What is it slut?" She demands.

"Please, may I come for you?" Her thrusts increase in severity. It feels like she is trying to tear through me, split me in two. Gods please.

"Go on then, come for me muddy. You're just a mouth for me to ride, a hole for me to fuck, so come. Do what you exist to do." Degradation abound. I fall apart for her. My soul rips in two and the world recedes. As I plummet, as I rise, as I spin in circles of pleasure. I expel the moisture she has given me. She pulls out and leaves me dehydrated once more.

She leaves with no word, no goodbye. Pink anemic roses dry upon grey skin and I smile. I wait for Mistress to return. I will put myself back together for her until she comes back to rip me apart anew.

* * *

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End file.
